An extract from Chapter 16 of 'Harry Lampeter and the War with Scotland'
Dear Aileen,
We suffered heavy losses during the attack on York and our airship, the Noltland Castle, has been ferrying the wounded back to Glasgow. I’ve witnessed terrible scenes in our hold: blood everywhere, soldiers screaming, nurses wheeling transfusion bottles around and doctors performing emergency operations.
I don’t think I’ll ever get the pictures out of my head, those poor young people, the best of Scotland.
We made several bombing passes, each one lower than the last. Captain McIndoe drew the line when English bullets began popping through the floor and one of them hit the helmsman’s foot.
The chap was totally stalwart, though. He flinched and then said, ‘Permission to speak, Captain?’
The Captain said, ‘Aye, helmsman.’
The helmsman said, ‘I think the bastard English have just shot my toe off, sir.’
Captain McIndoe looked down at the pool of blood forming around the poor chap’s foot, relieved him of his post, and took the wheel himself. It was Scottish stoicism at its best, made me proud to be fighting alongside such people. We went round again for another pass, dropped a cluster of bombs and one found its target. Apparently, it went straight down the chimney of Cliffords Tower and took out the entire English leadership.
An extract from 'Harry Lampeter and the War with Scotland'
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